


Wanheda in Sunnydale; the Commander of Death

by pawprints_on_the_moon



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, Clexa Halloween Week, Clextober20, Crossover, F/F, but you'd still get it without being in both fandoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pawprints_on_the_moon/pseuds/pawprints_on_the_moon
Summary: “That’s just my name though,” said Lexa. “There’s much more you could know about me.”“I don’t want to know anything about you,” snarled Clarke, pulling back her arm to stake Lexa through the heart. Just as she did, Lexa grabbed her attacking wrist and spun them both around so that Clarke was the one pressed against the crypt wall.“Well,” Lexa said softly, “I’d like to know more about you.”(Clarke the Vampire Slayer. Vampire!Lexa)
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 6
Kudos: 93





	Wanheda in Sunnydale; the Commander of Death

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah so I really had no idea I was going to write this. I guess I decided to be a vampire and choose writing clexa over sleep. But I had fun so....

The first time Clarke the Vampire Slayer tried to dust the mysterious vampire, they did not exchange words. It must have been an off night for the Slayer, because after their fight the undead woman ran off into the night unharmed.

The second time they met, the vampire got away again. Clarke committed her face to memory, for there were not many vampires who could continue to best her. Right before disappearing, she had let her face relax out of it’s fighting wrinkles. She had the most hauntingly green eyes and the most infuriating little smirk. Her face was memorable that Clarke saw the vampire in her dreams for the next several nights. 

Just as she was about to get away for the third time, Clarke called after her: “Who are you?”

The vampire turned slowly back to face Clarke, looking down at her from the large grave she was unceremoniously jumping over to leave. 

“Why, Slayer?” she said softly. “Are you afraid of me?”

“Of course not.” Clarke glared and gripped her stake tight. Then after a small sigh she said, “But I’ll admit that you are a formidable fighter.”

“Oh stop, you’ll make me blush.”

“Oh yeah? With what blood?”

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” she asked, ignoring Clarke’s response.

“Well the undead can’t really be killed.” Clarke rolled her eyes. “You’re already dead, genius. Looks like your brains don’t match up to your fighting skills.”

“Come now,” the vamp feigned a look of hurt, “you’ll hurt my feelings if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll hurt more than your feelings if you’re not careful!”

“No, you won’t.” The Vampire turned away slowly to meander away through the graveyard. She called over her shoulder, “I know you have a soft spot for me, Slayer.”

Clarke fumed, but let her get away a third time. There was more patrolling to do and her watcher wouldn’t be happy to hear she’d wasted her night on one inconsequential vamp.

The next time they met the fight was brief and Clarke had her cornered against the stone wall of a crypt. Right before she was about to drive the stake into the vamp’s heart, however, her forehead wrinkles smoothed out to make the vampire look human. In Clarke’s moment of hesitation the vampire spoke.

“I’m Lexa,” she whispered. Clarke froze, except her labored breathing from the combat. “You asked who I was, remember?”

Of course Clarke remembered. She didn’t move a muscle and neither did Lexa. Lexa didn’t need to breathe, of course, but she was choosing to and Clarke could feel the cool puffs of her exhales.

“That’s just my name though,” said Lexa. “There’s much more you could know about me.”

“I don’t want to know anything about you,” snarled Clarke, pulling back her arm to stake Lexa through the heart. Just as she did so, Lexa grabbed her attacking wrist and spun them both around so that Clarke was the one pressed against the crypt wall.

“Well,” Lexa said softly, “I’d like to know more about you.”

Clarke pushed her away and followed through with a kick to the stomach that made Lexa roll to the ground. She rolled back up however, ready with a punch. So they fought and Clarke convinced herself that her hesitation meant nothing. But when Lexa got away a fourth time she knew she ought to be concerned.

The resulting conversation with her watcher, Marcus Kane, consisted of instructions to meditate and reassess her feelings. He said that it was not the first time that a Slayer had been attracted to a vampire. Clarke immediately denied any such attraction to the monster and simply trained harder than ever. Perhaps she could sweat it out. The possibility that certain vampires could have souls lingered in her mind, however. So did Lexa’s green eyes and sarcastic remarks. Over and over again Clarke and Lexa would meet in the graveyard, pretend to fight, and never end up with real bruises or cuts. 

One night in late October, Clarke was in the tunnels underneath Sunnydale defeating a Haxil Beast when three more gigantic demons joined them. Just as Clarke was considering retreat, Lexa appeared with two long and lethal swords. In seconds one of the demons was dead and oozing puss on the tunnel floor. With no time for questions, Clarke accepted Lexa’s help, and together they took out the remaining demons.

After the fight and before they could speak. Lexa disappeared into the night leaving Clarke with a thousand questions. The Slayer immediately went to Mr. Kane with her concerns and they hit the books. Clarke was just starting to feel guilty about not thanking Lexa for coming to her aid, when Mr. Kane showed her the records of Lexa’s past. She was known to the demon world as ‘The Commander.’ A pretentious and narcissistic title.

His interpretation of the horrors that Lexa had committed, suggested that Clarke should avoid upsetting her. Raven and Monty agreed that it would be useful to keep a vampire on their side and even Bellamy and Octavia were prepared to follow their advice.

Grudgingly, Clarke agreed as well. These records were more than enough to remind Clarke not to be attracted to monsters. 

And yet.

And _yet_ …

The months went on and Lexa continued to show up just in time to fight at her side. Often Lexa would appear with helpful information when Clarke was leaving the Bronze late at night, or patrolling among graves. She would always come with information about the Big Bad -a dangerous and mad woman with inhuman powers and mysterious origin. 

“Clarke. You need to know this…” or “I’m here to help you Clarke.” More than once Clarke would ask, “Why are you doing this?” and “How do you know all of this about Alie?”

Lexa never gave a straight answer until the night before Clarke was going to face off with Alie, who Lexa had informed her was a god separated from her home dimension. Clarke and her friends had laid out an insane plan and now it was just time to wait. In the morning they would save the world but tonight everyone went to their respective houses to sleep. Lexa insisted on walking Clarke to her house.

“Why are you walking me home?” Clarke asked as she allowed Lexa steps to fall in sync with her own.

“To protect you.”

“I’m the slayer, I hardly need protecting. You could have walked Monty home instead.”

“Monty got a ride with Raven, Clarke.” The slayer shivered at the way Lexa always annunciated the ‘k’ at the end of her name. “And you’re the slayer. Alie is most likely to come after you.”

Their footsteps made the only noise for a moment before Lexa whispered, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why?” Clarke all but yelled. The stress of tomorrow’s plan exacerbated the constant frustration that was the Commander. “Why are you helping me?”

“Just trust me,” Lexa replied, voice still soft. Those eyes. So soft and sincere and not at all like a demon.

“Why would I trust you? You are death itself.” Clarke wanted to punch the vampire. Or lunge at her in some other way. Lexa apparently shared that urge because instead of answering, she pulled Clarke into a hard, passionate kiss. Clarke’s body responded as her mind buzzed with white noise. It was rough and thrilling. Lexa’s hands were exploring the skin just under the hem of her shirt before Clarke pulled away.

“No.” Clarke shook her head. “No. Being a good kisser does not equate to being trustworthy.”

“So you think I’m a good kisser, then?”

“I think you’re probably a good liar and you definitely have secrets and you should go back to your crypt.”

“I am a good kisser.” Lexa smirked, moving closer to Clarke, hands still on her waist. “You’re good too.”

“Please…” Clarke’s suspicious mind wondered if the vampire was really saying she tasted good. The still buzzing part of her mind was vaguely thinking that Lexa tasted good. Then Lexa took several steps away and the California air felt cold. 

“Right,” Lexa nodded, suddenly serious and impassive. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We will send the goddess back to her universe. Do not worry.”

Clarke wanted to apologize, but she also didn’t want to apologize. So she turned away and walked home alone. 

Early the next morning Clarke and her friends went out to an empty construction site to defeat Alie. Just after Raven failed to close the portal to Alie’s home dimension (the City of Light) everyone discovered why Lexa was called the Commander. Try as she might, Clarke could not completely corner the powerful goddess. Only when Lexa finally stepped in and commanded Alie through the portal. They all shared the victory, but Lexa had exhibited a special power that nobody could explain.

Faced with a full team of armed and curious demon-fighters, Lexa revealed one secret. Before becoming a vampire, she’d come from a long line of demi-god from the City of Light. Clarke couldn’t quite pretend to be surprised. However, when Raven told everyone that the goddess part of Lexa would have protected her soul when she had been sired, Clarke felt as if her heart had stopped beating. She searched Lexa’s face, desperate for confirmation. The Commander’s silent nod pushed her heart to back into beating, hard and full of adrenaline. 

The moments were too long until they were alone again and Clarke’s pulse pounded inside her the whole time. Finally, the sun set and Clarke and Lexa were alone in the Magic Shop.

“You have a soul?”

“I do.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t want to distract you,” Lexa explained. “I didn’t want to be a weakness for you.”

“It was a lie of omission.” Clarke did indeed feel somewhat weak at the knees. Last night Lexa had asked for trust, and now Clarke was tempted to give it. “If you ever lie to me again-”

“I won’t.” Their eye contact was infinite. “ I understand if you can never want me. I may have a soul, but there is still demon in me. There is goddess too. I am not human, and you are so beautifully human.”

Lexa knelt down before her, a promise on her face. The magic of this moment was tangible.

“Because of my power and lineage, I am known as the Commander,” Lexa said softly. “But last night you told me that I am death. You were right. But you, Clarke, are the chosen one. The Slayer. The Commander of Death. I am death. And I swear fealty to you.”

Clarke offered Lexa a shaking hand and pulled Lexa to her feet. Everything she was thinking could not be put into words. So instead of speaking she stepped towards the vampire-goddess and reached up to caress her cheek. Lexa leaned closer, all hesitation and desire. 

When their lips met, everything softened. When Lexa reached up to run her fingers through blonde hair, it was as if Clarke was spun of glass and she was afraid of breaking her. When Clarke’s lips opened to taste the Commander the hunger that stirred inside her was incredibly human. When that hunger became too intense, Clarke pushed her against a table and tossed aside all caution.

Fingers dug into hips and roamed under shirts. Books were pushed off the table to fall open on the floor. Clothing was abandoned along with all inhibitions. Two bodies explored each other, discovering pleasure through their closeness. Two girls with the weight of the world on their shoulders floated as light as air. This time they didn’t pretend to fight, and Lexa didn’t run off into the night.

(At which point they snuck off to Lexa’s cozy candlelit crypt because they were still at the Magic Box and even Slayers, gods, and vampires prefer beds over tables. They spent the entire next day in bed, actually. They deserved it, they had just saved the world after all.)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you had as much fun as me :) Happy Halloween!


End file.
